


still time for us to pull over (but we can't stop)

by strawbry



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Eggsy is good at fantasizing, Kinda, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 09:32:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7527523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawbry/pseuds/strawbry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Hart is the new government teacher at Kingsman High, Eggsy pines (amongst other activities), and Roxy gets a year of free entertainment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	still time for us to pull over (but we can't stop)

**_9:00 AM_ **

_ Damn it _ , Eggsy thinks,  _ this whole first-day-of-school shite is really depressing.  _ He scrunches up his face at the hundreds of overeager underclassmen milling about, too distracted to notice Roxy running full speed towards him from the side before she tackles him into a hug, laughing as he yelps and flails in her arms.

"Oi, Rox, you almost killed me! I've missed you, bruv." Eggsy smiles indulgently down at his best friend and notices a white paper sticking out of her hand. "What've you got there?"

"Oh right, I almost forgot! Did you get your schedule yet? I want to see classes we have together," Roxy excitedly explains.

He shakes his head. "I just got here a couple minutes ago -- I've still got to go get mine."

"Alright, we'll go together, then," she says, grabbing his elbow and gently pulling him across the quad to a booth that says "12th Grade Schedules Here" in bold letters.

When they reach the front of the line, Eggsy inwardly groans at the sight of a cocky smile greeting them from under the sign.

"Back so soon, Roxy? Couldn't get enough of me the first time, then?"

"Hey, Charlie, shut the fuck up, yeah?" Eggsy snaps, tacking on a "mate" when Roxy digs her elbow into his side. Damn her and her determination to get him to  _ try and be a bit more civil, for godsakes, Eggsy.  _ "Just give me my schedule."

Charlie huffs out a breath of laughter and fishes Eggsy's paper out of the pile on the table. Eggsy snatches it from him and flips a "thanks" over his shoulder as he strides away, Roxy in tow.

"I told you to just ignore him," she says, frowning. "I can take care of myself, I've told you this thousands of times already."

"Jesus, what are we, an old married couple?" he mutters.

"Yeah, and if you don't show me your schedule already, I'm going to divorce your sorry arse," she replies good-naturedly, already reaching to pull his schedule out of his hand. "Look at that, we've got fifth period government class together!"

"Isn't there a new gov teacher this year?" he asks, peering over to look at the paper. "Hart. I've never heard of him before."

Roxy shrugs and hands him his schedule back just as the warning bell shrilly rings. "Well, I suppose we can only cross our fingers and hope for the best. I'll see you at lunch!"

Eggsy shouts a "see you later!" at her quickly retreating back and drops his eyes to the paper in his hand. First period, math. He sighs and steels himself for the torturous, mind-numbing day ahead, and heads off to his first class.

\----------------------------------

**_12:00 PM_ **

Throughout the day, Eggsy hears whispers about Mr. Hart.

_ Mate, he introduced himself with a Word document about his life that was basically a dating profile. _

_ He gave us a quiz about types of shoes and kept telling us about different kinds of concealed weapons. _

_ Yeah, he's gone absolutely mad - I'd trust him with my life but definitely not with my test scores. _

So when he’s finally walking down the hall to Mr. Hart’s classroom, he isn't quite sure what to expect. Shrugging, he casually slaps down on the door handle and yanks the door open, only to immediately almost run smack into a crisply ironed dress shirt. A short yelp escapes him as he quickly brings his hands up to balance himself, and at the same time, a half dress-shirted arm reaches out to firmly grasp his shoulder. Eggsy lifts his head, confused, and trails his gaze across the broad hand on his shoulder, to the vein on the exposed forearm, to the well-fitted shirt across the chest, to the long tanned neck, and finally to the man’s face. And immediately blushes, ripping his hands away from the man’s chest.  _ Nobody’d said anything about Mr. Hart being hot as hell _ , he thinks huffily, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Eggsy says instead, throwing one hand up for a sloppy salute.

“That's quite alright. No harm done.” Mr. Hart smiles warmly down at him, removes his hand from Eggsy’s shoulder, and sweeps past him with a faint puff of sandalwood.

Eggsy swallows and lightly touches his shoulder, somehow already missing the solid press of Mr. Hart’s hand. He sighs, inwardly cursing himself, and steps into the classroom, only to find Roxy on the farthest wall, doubled over her desk laughing. He storms over. “Oi!” he exclaims indignantly, flicking her lightly on the forehead, before plopping down in the seat in front of her.

Roxy manages to restrain her laughter enough to say, “Oh Eggsy, you should've seen your face! You've gone head over heels for Mr. Hart, haven't you? And we’ve barely just even met him.”

Eggsy, out of excuses, opts to stick out his tongue at her and turn around to face the front of the classroom, just in time to see Mr. Hart stride back into the classroom.

“Let's begin, class, shall we? My name is Harry Hart, and I will be your government teacher for this year,” he says, all crisp syllables and posh English accent.

Sinking down low into his chair, Eggsy briefly closes his eyes and sighs.  _ This year’ll be the best and worst yet _ .

\----------------------------------

**_0:00 AM_ **

Eggsy climbs into bed and burrows happily under his warm comforter. As he closes his eyes, his mind drifts over to Mr. Hart, and he unconsciously reaches up to grasp his shoulder. He hums contentedly and lets his imagination wander, rubbing a thumb under the waistband of his pyjama pants, hand splayed across his stomach. Mr. Hart’s rant about oxfords vs. brogues was actually a bit hilarious, Eggsy thinks vacantly, arousal simmering softly on the backburner. He wanted to get a look at Mr. Hart’s shoes up close afterwards, and try and see what Mr. Hart thought was so damn special about ‘em.  _ It's just an expensive shoe, innit? _ he wonders, wrinkling his nose in the dark. He imagines himself squatting down in front of Mr. Hart’s shoes and pulling out a magnifying glass, pretending to scrutinize the shoes, then loudly declaring,  _ Yeah, just a awfully expensive typical lookin’ brogue you got on here, guv _ , as Mr. Hart’s face immediately takes on a pained expression.

The Eggsy laying in bed clutches his chest, suddenly overcome with a fit of laughter.  _ You've been quite bad today,  _ Mr. Hart’s voice says in Eggsy’s head. Eyes closed, Eggsy is suddenly back in the classroom, on his knees, gazing up at Mr. Hart. He thinks back,  _ Yeah, and? _

_ Mr. Hart raises one eyebrow and tugs back Eggsy’s hair with one hand, thumb rubbing gently over his temple. _ Eggsy lets out a sharp exhale and presses a palm down on his semi-hard cock.  _ Lemme make up for it?  _ he pleads in his head.

_ Eggsy reaches up with both hands to unbuckle and unbutton Mr. Hart’s grey trousers, looking up at his face as he slowly pulls down the zipper. The fingers in Eggsy’s hair tighten, silently reminding Eggsy to get on with it. He quickly looks back down and takes a long lick down the side of Mr. Hart’s cock, fingers rubbing at the frenulum. He pulls back and suddenly sinks his mouth all the way down on Mr. Hart’s cock, swallowing around the intrusion in his throat and breathing in musk deeply through his nose. Mr. Hart’s thighs quiver around Eggsy’s chin. _

“Fuck!” Eggsy whispers wetly, one hand gripped tightly in his hair, the other hand furiously stroking his cock, eyes staring sightlessly at the dark ceiling as he rocks his hips up once, twice, and comes all over his shaking fingers. 

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops! Turns out I'm pretty bad at writing post-orgasm scenes! (which is why there isn't one) 
> 
> Pray for my future chapters xx 
> 
> :''')))


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